Disciple of the Creed
by crusade-renegade
Summary: US born Assassin Damien McGraw travels to England in search of Assassins whom the order lost contact with during the Great Purge. He is directed to Kong Studios and mistakes Noodle's fighting skills as the result of Assassin training. Now he refuses to leave until the Gorillaz give up any clues about the Pieces of Eden. The trouble is, they have no idea what the pieces are!
1. Written Letter: All Alone

**Written Letter: All Alone**

_Written Letter by Damien McGraw_

21st December, 2007.

9:07 AM.

William, I'm writing to you from the confinements of a photo booth, I can't afford to be writing so openly, so forgive the messy layout and shortness. I will write to you again once I am settled and detail you with what I have discovered.

After the course of one month, I was able to catch the next ride from America from a fisherman. He told me that if I didn't help work while I was stowed on board, he would throw me into the sea. Fishing isn't all that hard - it's just the smell that makes me feel nauseous. But I finally made it to Europe, and so far the Templars haven't found me - I am sure that they are close, though. I was told by Professor Kiellor, my supervisor, before setting off, that the presence of the Assassins are known throughout Europe. Although I'm sure this number is greatly exaggerated since he gave me the data that was taken before the Great Purge. I know that the team of most significance is working through Italy with a man I'm sure that you are familiar with, known as Desmond Miles. Their main focus, however, is working within the animus for both tracking and training. With all due respect, sir, but I don't think that you will find anyone of importance in my genes, so I will not be heading towards Italy.

Instead, I am heading for England as I've been told that there is a team working in Essex, although, I'm not sure where. It will not take me long to find out, as I am sure you are aware of. Once I've found them, I shall establish a Hephaestus Network and e-Mail you as quickly as I can. This shall be the last letter I send until I set up the network, it is becoming increasingly dangerous and I've been seeing the same white unmarked van for the past two days, and it's just the right size for surveillance gear. If you hear nothing from me within two weeks - I will have been comprimised. Do not send replacements. Do not send a search party.

Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.

_**Damien.**_


	2. Sequence 1: Some Kind of Nature

**Sequence I**

_Some Kind of Nature_

23rd December, 2007.

5:23 PM.

_"Once I had sent the letter I instantly regretted it, but I knew that I was still relatively safe since I hadn't revealed my location - I felt a little guilty for the team in Italy, but none of my other messages had been intercepted before, so I had little to worry about. I lost the tail of the white van which had been following me and made my way to Essex unhindered, but know I had to find the team I'd heard about; I still don't know whether they are a figment of Kiellor's imagination. He told me they lived in a place called Kong Studios, but I am certain that it is a code name of some kind. I've been trying to figure it out, but it feels like something in my brain is stopping me. It's making me doubt that I wasn't experimented with at Abstergo - they've planted something inside me. I know it. I had spoken to a group of carol singers ealier and they directed me to a gloomy-looking warehouse on the top of a hill. I fear to tread the path, as they told me the members of the house were not the most hospitible, but I shall venture forth nevertheless. This is my duty and my job, I should fear nothing if it brings us ever closer to the destruction of the Templars and their evil corporation Abstergo."_

I closed my journal and placed it back into my backpack, along with my pencil and various other items and then exited the Post Office, sure of my next destination; Kong Studios. It wasn't far from the town, and therefore didn't take long too reach. I pressed my finger into the buzzer on the black box fixed onto the wall at the gates.

"Wha' do ya want?" A croaky, deep voice asked me through the black box.

"Laa shay'a waqi'un moutlaq bale kouloun moumkine." I replied, sure of myself and the direction I had been given off numerous people (although, they all gave the same strange warning of the nature of the Assassins working within this warehouse).

"Ya what, mate?" The voice asked me. I couldn't deny that I felt a little foolish, after all, not all Assassins were taught our binding words in Arabic. I tried again, but in Italian this time, following in the footsteps of the Assassin Ezio Auditore.

"Niente è vero, tutto è permesso." I smiled to myself, awaiting a reply.

"I still ain't gettin' ya." The voice rang through the small speaker, sounding like the scraping of wood against concrete. It wasn't the most pleasant sound I have ever heard. But by this time I was beginning to get a little annoyed. It was obvious that this Assassin had not completed their training - so why had they been sent out with a team? I pushed that thought away and out of my mind while I continued to gain access to the warehouse.

"For heavens sake, man." I replied, infuriated by the recruit. "Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember..." I left the last words for him to answer, even recruits knew the answer to this and I wasn't feeling great about having to result to the foundation words of our Creed in order to jog this man's memory of us. How long had this team really been without contact...

"Ya know what, you're better than telly." The voice told me. After this, connection with the warehouse was lost and I was at a loss for words. I had failed. How was that possible! But a second later, the buzzer made a short, sharp sound and the large iron gates began to swing open. I smiled smugly - so I hadn't failed after all. With confidence in my step and a grin on my face, and made my way up the driveway to the warehouse, and as I got close I quickly realised that it was no warehouse at all - but in fact a mansion! 'What a clever disguise...' I thought to myself.

The door was already open by the time I reached it and it was further away from the driveway than I imagined, but it wasn't difficult to find. But as I looked up, as I gaze at my feet when I walk, I saw that against the doorway leaned, not a man whom I was expecting, but a girl. Now, I must get this clear right away, I'm not the type of man to develop feelings for another - she just surprised me, that's all (or so I forced myself to think). I kept my eyes upon her, waiting for her to speak, but instead she simply pushed herself away from the doorframe, turned, and moved away into the house. I ran after her as I believe it was a way of asking me to follow, and as soon as I had entered, the door closed behind me.

"So what's ya deal, then?" The voice croaked from behind me. I spun around to find the person I was originally expecting, a tall, topless man holding a bottle of what looked to be rum in his grubby fingers.

"Excuse me?" I answered, not sure exactly what he meant.

"Blah blah blah, somethin' about other men. You gay?" He said, winking at me when he spoke the last two words, but by this time two more people had joined us. One being a tall, lanky blue-haired man with dents in his eyes, and the other being a large, black bald man. Both would have startled had I not heard them entering the room. Within seconds the atmosphere had changed completely and I found myself, for the first time in my life, wanting to be in a place like Abstergo rather than here.

"No. I'm not gay." I answered him, looking back to the girl for a second. She caught my gaze and locked it for a split second, then she turned and walked out of the room. 'Bitch.' I thought to myself, pressing a finger against my temple. "Look, HQ have been looking for you. You lost contact with us, remember? I'm here to re-establish that and work with you for a few months. Once I've found what I'm looking for - I'll be out of your hair." I said to him, intensely angry that I had to spell it out for him.

"So you're gonna be stayin' with us for a few months?" The bald man asked me with a deep, harsh American accent - I found myself knowing that we could be good friends if I played my cards correctly.

"It could be longer or shorter depending on how long it takes me to find the item." I answered him.

"Whatever." The croaky man interuppet my speech and sauntered through the same door that the girl had disappeared through earlier. Shortly followed by the blue-haired man, and after the bald man had described the way to the room I would be staying in, he too left. I sighed and followed the man's instructions to my room. This was going to be a long few months.


	3. Email: Sound Check

**E-mail: Sound Check**

_Sent by Damien McGraw_

**From:** Damien McGraw  
**To:** William Miles  
**Date/Time:** 12/24/07 5:36 PM  
**Subject:** Network Setup

William,

I've finally setup the Hephaestus Network I promised you I would. I took all day so please forgive the lateness of this E-mail.

As I claimed, I found Kong Studios Professor Keillor told me about. The team were reluctant to let me in at first - and the one I spoke to seems to be a raging alcoholic, I'm sure that is why he was not answering me the way I expected, but nevertheless, they gave me a bed and let me work on their computers. What I'm find hard too believe, though, is that I found no trace of Hephaestus before I installed the new edition. This could be one of two reasons: they bought new computers in order for no trace to the Order to be found (a wise idea considering how many of us perished during the Great Purge) or they were able to hide their use of it. I doubt it is the last option - I would have found it if it was.

But the main reason I am here is because I believe them to be hiding information about the pieces of Eden, I am sure that they have an animus in this house somewhere, and rest assured, I _will_ find it. But for now I will give you the names of the team so you may find their files and send them to me in your next E-mail.

Murdoc Niccals, Stuart Pot, Russel Hobbs and Noodle.

I thank you in advance for your cooperation and support through this mission.

_**Damien.**_


	4. Sequence 2: Man Research

**Sequence II**

_Man Research_

25th December (Christmas Day), 2007

6:12 PM

"_Christmas Day. Do I regret that I can't spend it with a family? Well, if what I'm doing will end up saving the world – then no, of course not. All's well that ends well is what my father used to tell me. Of course there are times when I wish I could change, or erase the past. Times I wish I could forget. But then I wonder why I'm complaining. I'm only nineteen years old and my work could end up saving the world. I have my whole life ahead of me to make mistakes in, so why regret what has already happened. We can't change our past, only embrace it. Our past shapes who we are and what we become. Besides, I have no time to reminisce._

_Today, Murdoc offered me some egg nog in the morning, but I didn't drink it until later. All I seem to be doing is work and I'm not getting anywhere. The team isn't much help either. Murdoc is usually too drunk to interrogate, 2D is too damn stupid, Russel is eating or sleeping and has no time for talk and Noodle just doesn't say anything or I can't bloody find her. I'm sure they are keeping something from me. They can't keep this façade up – I will get the information out of them. I promised Bill that much when I left."_

I'd considered moving my journal entries to the computer I was borrowing from the team, but that was even more unsafe than keeping them written in a book. Plus, I always kept it on my person, so it was unlikely that they would be getting their hands on it anytime soon. I turned around from my chair just in time as I heard the door creaking across the room behind me.

"Ah, Noodle." I said, tracking her movements as she shut the door behind her. "Can I help you with anything?" I asked her politely, while pushing my journal off the desk and against my back, then I leaned against the back of the chair hiding it from her view.

"What's that?" She replied, pointing straight at me. I swallowed deeply, but situations like this were what I was trained for, but it wasn't like I didn't have to completely hide it from her. She was my teammate, I could at least tell her what it was.

I smiled, then answered; "It's a journal. I only use it to keep track of my movements." I took the book out from behind my back, being careful to shut it, then held it up, but not out.

"Can't you do that yourself?" She asked me instantaneously, moving away from the door to the book shelf that was kept in the room. I felt a little uneasy that she was asking me so many questions, but it was the most she had said to me since arriving, so I dismissed the thought of nervousness and concentrated on talking to her. Maybe I'd been looking at it all wrong; maybe I had to wait for her to come to me before I started asking questions.

"Well, yes. But that's not the point. It's for my supervisor really." I watched as she lifted her hand to brush it against the spines of the book with a delicate interest I'd never seen anyone inhabit before.

"What's that?" She continued to ask questions, not even turning to look at me. I sighed under my breath, but didn't deny that it was nice to talk to her – it felt… Calming, almost.

"My supervisor? He's just a guy who watches me – he's supposed to be responsible for me. But everyone is responsible for themselves in my eyes, live with your own mistakes kinda thing." Noodle had stopped and turned to stare at me by the time I'd finished, I caught her gaze with mine and smirked slightly. She ignored it and went back to scanning over the books.

"You can't watch yourself?" She expressed eventually and it made me slightly disheartened to think that she thought of me like that, so I was quick to correct her.

"Of course I can!" I answered sharply, to which she stopped her movements for a slight second, then continued. "The journal is just something I have to do… We all have to do…" I explained softly, my voice trailing away at the last sentence. If she was one of us, why wouldn't she know what my journal was for? Surely she would have had to write them herself…

She simply nodded in reply and slid a book out from the shelf, then, as she was walking towards the door, she stopped for a moment and looked at me.

"I used to write a journal, when we were on tour…" I smiled, her words soothing any doubt I had. Of course she would have, all Assassins were punished if they didn't write log journals while touring to their next destination. I took the silence to read the title of the book in her arms.

"The Art of War?" My eyes narrowed to her, I was surprised that she was interested in a dusty old book some dying General had written. "I wouldn't have thought it was your style." I expressed my opinion openly, and then received an icy stare from her.

"Don't judge people by the things they read." She said, as if she was insulting me, or disciplining me. Then she turned back towards the door and I had to dive across the bed to hold it shut.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that." I apologized softly, I didn't want this conversation to end – I had come so far and didn't want it to be a waste of time when I could be interrogating someone else. She had been looking down, but turned her head up to face me when I had touched the door.

"How did you mean it then?" She said, taking me completely by surprised. She dropped the book on the floor and stepped straight into me – I had to step backwards sharply to avoid touching her, I was sure that she would have hit me with the book if I did. She continued walking and I eventually fell back onto the bed as there was no more room to stand and she stood over me with a vicious look in her eyes (I could see them now that she was stood above me, her hair usually covered them).

"Well… I…" I stuttered incomprehensive sounds after that, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. Luckily (or unluckily) she hadn't taken me seriously since she walked through the door and just laughed coldly at my stutters. It was insanely adorable, and I found myself purposefully trying to find faults in her consciously so I didn't have to admit that I found her attractive.

I was an Assassin. Right now, I didn't have time to be fooling around.

After this, she leaned forward over me with her mouth an inch from mine, her hand over mine, her eyes locked against mine. "Don't fuck with me, or my friends. You'll regret that." Then, she just smiled, stood, picked up the book from the floor, and left.

I felt crushed, and hated her for that. Plus it didn't help that I could still smell her, even though she had gone. A gentle, sweetly floral scent. I'm not sure whether it was her perfume or her, which was making my mind race.

Shaking her from my mind, I turned back to my journal and replaced in onto the desk, picking up my pencil.


	5. Journal Entry: Revolving Doors

**Journal Entry: Revolving Doors**

_Written by Damien McGraw_

26th December, 2007.

2:00 PM.

Love is a painful and useless emotion, but it's the closest thing we have to magic... I remember when I was younger, and after every session - after the bloody noses, and the bruises, and the grazes the floor gave me after I was kicked down onto it time after time - I remember seeing my mother, clutching a picture of my father. I was lucky enough to still have both of my parents alive, and every so often he would return from a mission of some kind, and the first thing he did was come to the farmhouse to see his wife. It was never me he wanted to hold first, but, I didn't mind, because at least he was there. It was more than the others. Some of them had only the Order for their family. No parents. No grandparents. No aunts, or uncles. Some of them had siblings - but they were often kept in a different house.

She told me it was too make me strong. Then again, I can think of no better motivator than the pride of others. For somebody other than yourself to be proud of you - it's a really special feeling.

Last night, before I had started writing my Journal assessment, I was thinking about that. My family. But I guess, I can't regret what I've never felt and I can't regret the life they chose for me. I know exactly what unconditional love feels like - and it's fucking painful. To feel so strongly, knowing that they don't even bat an eyelid when you walk past them. Then I remember the life I lead. I don't have time for unconditional love.

I spoke to Noodle again this morning after she saw me practising kendo moves in my bedroom and she asked to fight with me. She's been away from the system for a long time, so I don't think she'll have been keeping up; I'm guessing that's why she asked me to practise. So I'll go easy on her, she'll make my work easier if she likes me more.


	6. Sequence 3: White Flag

**Sequence III**

_White Flag_

27th December, 2007.

12:30 PM.

_"Today is the day I'm fighting Noodle, and so far I don't feel any doubt in my knowledge of her abilities. I've trained everyday since as long as I can remember, the last time she trained was probably when she was still in one of the farmhouses, being monitored. She'll be more than easy to beat, and I'm having several matches with her, so I'll just let her win one or two, just so she doesn't feel too bad about herself."_

I entered the room Noodle had directed me too. It was kitted out like a gymnasium, but wasn't even a sixth of the size - it was plently big enough for sparring though. Along the wall on the right hung the wooden or blunt versions of various well-known weapons and I admired them - calculating which to use - for a moment before I turned away. On the left; tires, sandbags and dumbells lined the wall to the edge and on the back wall were portraits of reknowned fighters through history. I could name all but one and made a note to ask Noodle about the man I couldn't recognise later. There was also a small wooden table underneath the middle picture with a large black bag placed on top, the bandage that had rolled from the roof of the back and other the table indicated to me that the bag was a first aid kit of somekind.

As I was making my way over to the blunt weaponry, I heard the faintest sound of creaking behind me and I spun around instinctively, my hands already in a guarding position, but I relaxed when I realised who it was.

"Those are my weapons." She said defensively, as if she thought I was going to steal one. I felt a little hurt by the accusation I heard in her voice.

"I was just admiring them," I said, unable to stop my eyes from searching her figure for any kind of weakness. "You have a very fine collection."

Noodle nodded in response, her eyes glancing past me for a split second. She was dressed in only two unvarying colours - both of us having one shared between us - black and red. Tiny black shorts contrasting with a loose black t-shirt, which some kind of triangular pattern emblazoned on the front in a deep red-crimson colour, blacks socks and red converse-style shoes. I, on the other hand, was wearing a combination of white and red - the typical coloured attire for American (and often European) Assassins. Eastern Assassins were usually dressed in, like Noodle, red and black, so I didn't question her choice. I wore a simple white tank t-shirt proudly showing the Assassin emblem on the front - it was the design we were given during training - white tracksuit trousers with red stripes down the side of each leg on the outside, no socks or shoes. In noticing, Noodle took her footwear off, I guessed to appeal to me although she needn't have bothered, it would have taken no time to fetch some from my room.

I narrowed my eyes after watching Noodle for a time, one thing that unnerved me relentlessly was that she Noodle seemed unnaturally calm for a person about to engage a battle. Even the best fighters had tell-tale signs of nervousness before every fight they fought. I took up my position in the upper corner of the mats by the right wall, shaking my arms and jumping on the balls of my feet to ready my muscles, I also focused on breathing deep breaths in and out in attempt to push away my nervous feelings like she had.

Finally, we were ready. The room, after Noodle had shut the door, was completely silent apart from the rapid sounds of my heavy breathing and tapping of my feet against the mats. My opponent made no sound whatsoever, just, watched me intensely with eyes that seemed to burn through me. I diverted my gaze, running through a few moves in my head. The first match was a test of melee and after speaking with her briefly I found that Noodle was more accustumed to Martial Arts of the Eastern world than the boxing of the Western one, like I was. So it wasn't fairly even in terms of fighting techniques, but I was stronger, bigger and most likely faster and more experienced, so I discounted her advantage over because of my obvious advantage over her.

Then, quicker than I ever imagined, she was upon me and I was against the floor in less time it had taken for me to understand she was moving. I scoffed slightly as I rose, that had been hardly fair; I hadn't been ready. But I swiftly realised that no matter how fast my reaction time was; hers was faster, but by the sixth match I had given myself enough time by staying defensive to analyse her movements some, so I was able to stay standing for a good amount of time and eventually, I was able to land some blows.

Two matches later, we were almost even - although I'm sure she was holding herself back for my sake. I flung my left arm towards her head as a jab, and I caught the side of her cheek with considerable force. I saw red. On her face, and my hand. I hesitated, unsure if I should carry on, but she took the oppotunity to revenge her injury and jumped up and kicked my stomach. I flew backwards and landed on the training mats hard, it hurt more than it did before, so I knew with certainty that she was angry I had drew blood. This concluded the melee fighting as when I had stood back up, ready for more, I saw that she had moved herself to the wooden table positioned at the back of the room.

"Hey..." I called out to her quietly. She made no response to me so I walked forward and stood behind her, looking down over her shoulder at what she was doing. She spun around to me after a few seconds, though, and her speed made me stumble back a few steps. "Are you okay?" I asked, she had stuck a tiny square plaster on her face over the cut, therefore I couldn't tell the damage I had done, but it looked as if the only thing I'd done was anger her. While I was thinking about the consequences of my actions, she had already made her way over to the right wall and had picked up a bo staff from the selection of weapons. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to-" She interuppted me before I could go any further.

"Less talk - more fight, Princess." She said plainly; I would have smiled if she did, but I knew that she wasn't going to be taking it easy on me anymore. I felt a nauseating uneasyness build up inside me as I followed the traces of her footsteps to the weapons. I chose the only weapon I knew I could defend myself with - glad that I was trained on a farm that lay next to a woodland area - and took a pair of yantok sticks from the shelf, weighing them in my hands slightly. I was more used to fighting childhood friends with sticks that we found in the woods. He would always choose the longer, heavier ones, and I, the smaller and lighter sticks because they were reminiscent of swords, but I learnt to use them in a different way that swordsmanship in order to defend myself from the onslaught of staff-like attacks. The only difference now, was that I was against an angry, irritated and (from the looks of it) extremely skilled opponent. I took my position in the upper right corner as I had done before, my hands shaking slightly as I brought the yantok into a defensive position.

Noodle lunged at me with the speed of a biting wolf, but I was ready for her - hyped up on fear and adrenaline. I dodged the assault, ducking underneath the staff by rolling around her side, then swept my arm around and caught the side of her waist with one of my yantok. She then spun around angrily, bringing her staff with her, and would have clipped my head if I hadn't ducked again, so, after the staff had finished its course, she swung the back of it up from behind her to pass her feet and swung it just short of my legs, only to land it sharply against my stomach. I coughed, lurging over and she brought the other end of the staff swinging down onto my back. I fell to the floor from the impact, tasting blood in my mouth and feeling the same warm liquid against my hands where I was pressing the white shirt into my stomach, I didn't dare to look down.

But I wasn't done yet. I'd gone through much worse through training and I wouldn't back out now because of a cut and a bloody lip. I knelt up, taking a few seconds to compose myself before I reached out for my yantok and regained my previous position. Noodle has already retaken her corner of the mats, so I walked over and took mine.

It was me who was on the offenseive this time and I sprang forward towards her, screaming a deranged war cry as I did so. I jumped, giving myself height, and flew towards her, my yantok sticks above my head and ready to strike down, then, before I had any time to react, she had jabbed her staff forward and into my stomach again. I fell from the air and landed awkwardly on my left arm, winded by both the attack and the fall. I still sprang back up, though, desperate not to lose. I swept my yantok to catch her waist of both sides, but she jabbed again with her staff, catching my nose. I staggered backwards. How was she this good? My vision blurred slightly and I fell onto my knees, but I had to see her walking towards me. She grabbed a handful of my hair forcefully, then brought her knee upwards, landing it on my stomach. When she let of my off me second later, I fell backwards onto the mats. I didn't cry out though, it hurt too much to make a sound. Both my pride and my body.

Just before she left, I heard her voice call out to me; "Come to the kitchen when you can walk again." Then the door slammed shut and I was left, drowing in silence and pain.

I did as she had told, though. Making my way down to the kitchen when my head and vision had cleared. I rounded the corner and saw first, a large bowl of water, and a cloth beside it on the island. The sound of a tap being turned off caught my attention and I looked up to see Noodle, with her back facing me. I sighed softly and stepped into the room, she turned to me after hearing the noise of my feet against the tiled floor.

"What do you want?" I asked her, avoiding the eye contact she was trying to give me.

"Sit down." She simply replied, pointing to one of the three seats facing the island. I knew what she was thinking, and I knew I couldn't allow it.

"I can clean myself." I told her stubbornly. After having to clean yourself after training for several years, you get used to doing things on your own. I made the mistake of not diverting my gaze after I had finished talking and she looked into my eyes.

"Sit. Down." She said simply, unmoving and getting irritated. I feared for myself, so instantly did as I was told and sat myself in one of the seats.

Noodle made her way over to me, picking up the cloth and dipping it into the water. She placed a freezing and against the side of my head and started to wipe away the blood with the cloth surprisingly softly. The water was warm and felt soothing against my skin, but did nothing for my pride, only further chipped away at it. Finally, she finished with cleaning my face, and although I hated her for doing it, I felt immensely better now that the blood was gone. She then took up a handful of my tank shirt at the bottom and I froze, putting my hands over hers. It wasn't that I was embarrassed about my body, but I just didn't want her too see the further damage she had done. I glanced down, noticing how the lower half of the shirt was stained with a faint red colour.

She looked up, shooting me a glance which I knew was telling me to let go of her. I didn't do as she asked me this time, and I held onto her hand even more tightly. A very bad move on my part. She released the grip on my shirt, but her hand stayed where it was and I felt her fingertips against my stomach, it was painful to say the least, but that was the last thing on my mind. I heard the faint sound of her clothes rubbing against each other as she brought her head to the same height as mine. She smiled, placing her other hand against my thigh - I guessed it was for support - then, slowly, she moved her head towards me, tilting it slightly. My mind was spinning, and I closed my eyes for her, releasing the hand I had been using to hold hers down, and placing it on her waist.

A second later I realised how much I had made a mistake, because as soon as I had released my hands from hers, she gripped my shirt once more and pulled it over my head before I could stop her. I cursed myself; she'd found my weakness. I felt the last ounce of pride that I had slip away and I let go of her waist, looking away from her and focusing on the magnets that occupied the door of the refridgerator. I heard her voice telling me to sit up and part of me wanted to disobey her words - but right now, I had no more pride left to lose, so I sat up as she had asked me too, feeling the warm water and cloth touch my skin again.

When Noodle had finished cleaning the blood from me and then taken away my shirt, I retreated to my room to e-mail William on what I'd discovered today; no person could fight so well without Assassin training.


	7. Noodle Memory: Dare

**Noodle Memory**

_Dare_

27th December, 2007.

9:45 PM.

After I'd e-mailed the report to William, I heard a knock on the door. I shut the browser window and turned off the monitor before calling the person in. It was 2D.

"Can I help you?" I asked him politely. I noticed the presence of somebody behind him, but I paid them no heed.

"Go on," He said, looking behind him. "You said tha' you wanted to talk to 'im." The person still didn't emerge, and I was starting to feel restless, 2D's actions also indicated that he was getting annoyed too. He eventually sighed, telling me something, then moved away; "Noodle's got sumfing for you."

I watched as Noodle's gaze followed her friend as he walked away and down the hall, then she averted it to the floor awkwardly, her hands behind her back. I sighed, obviously irritated.

"What is it?" My voice was even and angry. I don't know what brought me to be so mean in that moment, but I couldn't hold it back. I felt angry at her - and I knew why - but I didn't want to be, it had been my fault for underestimating her. Plus, I was getting angry that she had hurt me by not holding back... What was wrong with me?

She shuffled into the room slowly, then she placed my tank top on the bed. It was a crisp, bright white now, completely unstained as it had been before. I found myself wanting to ask how she was able to remove them, but kept the question in my mind. I noticed that she had changed her own t-shirt to a smaller, tighter one and it rode up her waist slightly. It gave me the view of the bruise I had given her when I hit her with the yantok and I instantly felt the need to repay her favor.

I looked over to my rucksack, it contained all of my belongings, one being some a tube of Arnica cream. It may seem girlish, but it helped with bruises and swelling, and when you fight for days in a row its pretty much essential. "Wait..." I called out to Noodle after she had turned to walk away. I moved over and reaching into my rucksack, pulling out the tube after a few seconds of searching. Then I made my way over to her, but she made no reaction, even when I held out the cream to her. "It's Arnica cream. It'll help with... That." I pointed to the bruise of her waist. She looked down for a split second, as if discovering it for the first time, then looked back up to me.

Her expression gave her away, it was a look of rebellion, but also, of wanting. It confused me more than anything I'd ever done, so I took a guess and used the hand nearest the bruise to lift up her shirt up a little to reveal it. My hand was shaking slightly and I could feel the sweat in my palms. I'd never been trained for something like this. All the while, her eyes were fixed against mine, now it was my turn to avoid eye contact. I feared that if I didn't, there would be little to stop me.

I opened to tube carefully, placed the lid into my mouth and squeezed a pea sized amount of cream onto my fingers, then hesitated as I saw her arms moving. I looked up just in time to see her hand moving towards my mouth, she removed the lid from between my teeth carefully, smiling before she replaced it in her own. It drove me crazy, but I dared not kiss her. I was sure it was annoy her just as much as it would annoy me and my supervisor.

I avoided her gaze again, staring down at my hands for a few seconds trying to remember why I had poured the cream out of the tube. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Noodle's hand pointing at her waist, and without thinking or hesitating, I pressed my fingers against the place she had indicated too. I rubbed the cream against the bruise with extreme care until I couldn't see it anymore, my hand lingered against her waist until I realised who I was and what I was here for, so removed them immediately after that. I moved my hand too my mouth to take the lid, but froze when I remembered where it was.

I smiled slightly, reaching up for the lid, but she leant backwards, evading my hand. I frowned slightly. I didn't have time for this - or, more accurately, I still didn't want to admit that I felt something for her. I reached for the lid once again, but she evaded my contact as she had before. I closed my eyes, sighing, about to put my hand on my forehead in annoyance, but I heard her voice calling to me.

"Damien..." She said, I kept my eyes closed. "I want to play a game." Her voice was more distant know, and I could tell that she had moved behind me. I guessed that she was at the bookcase. "I'll set you three challenges; if you complete them, you can have your lid." At this, she placed something over my eyes, from the material I could guess that it was a scarf or something similar.

"I was gonna give you the cream... Shouldn't I be the one giving you challenges?" I asked, holding the tube out in front of me. I felt her take it from me and it eased my worries, so I reached up to take away the blindfold. She stopped me by placing her hands on mine, then I felt her lean up to whisper.

"I don't care. It's my game." I felt her finger against my mouth, stopping me from speaking any further. I nodded reluctantly. "First; we play Marco Polo." With that, she took her finger away from my mouth and left with absolute silence. After a few seconds I heard her once more; "Marco." She said.

I took a step towards her voice, replying; "Polo."

We repeated this process for a fair amount of time because the blindfold was blocking my ears, and I found it hard to locate her acoustically. I finally found after I feel onto my bed and she touched my head with her hand, saying; "You took too long." I frowned, shaking her hand from me and stepping backwards off the bed.

"Next challenge?" I asked her calmly.

She replied with a cool, low voice so quiet that I almost didn't hear her. "Tell me what you think of me." She answered.

I sighed once more, pulling off the blindfold; "What sort of challenge is that?" I scoffed. There were a thousands more things harder than this.

She just smiled. "Be truthful." She gave the slightest hint of a smirk and I felt pride and confidence etching away from me. Nevertheless, I would complete her stupid game, because I wanted to sleep and if honesty is what she wanted - regardless of the consquences - I would give her just that.

"I think you're hot." I replied simply.

"And..." She coaxed more description from me, as we both knew that I was keeping information; I should have been more careful.

"Cute." I said, turning away to walk to the bookcase. She said nothing, so I carried on. "Beautiful..." I glanced back at her, but her face was expressionless. "Dangerous, unique, unforgiving..." My voice trailed away as a smile had formed on her.

"Very good." She told me, standing up. Slowly, she made her way towards me and I felt myself being pinned against the bookcase, but had no idea which way to run.

"The last challenge?" I asked, waiting for more reaction from her. But nothing could have prepared me for her next words. The smile on her face dissolved to a smirk and she placed a hand on my chest to prevent me from moving anywhere.

"Kiss me." She said.

I blinked, taking her words in.

"Kiss?" I said, my voice croaky and uneven. She moved towards me, and I to her. I felt an itching sensation coming from my back, just abve the back of my trousers, but I ignored it. Suddenly, with our mouths not even a centimetre apart, she stopped. Instantly, I spoke. "Don't you do this to me again." She smiled. "Don't you dare."

Then her lips were against mine. It was the lightest of touches, and only brief, but it felt amazing. When I opened my eyes, she was gone. A smile formed on my lips and I went to go sit against my chair, confidence slowly returning to me. It was soon gone though, as when I sat down, I realised my journal - which I usally kept stuffed halfway down the back of my pants and hidden by my shirt - was missing.


	8. Sequence 4: Last Living Souls

**Sequence IV**

_Last Living Souls_

27th December, 2007.

11:55 PM.

_"I found that I couldn't sleep. Noodle had filled my mind once again and I was powerless against the thought of her. I knew that in the end I was to suffer for how I had let her affect me, but I didn't really care. She'd kissed me. But, the sad thing was; I wanted more. So much more. I need to find ways to make her notice me, maybe then she'll do it again..."_

After almost an hour of lying awake, I moved down to the kitchen. The quiet hum of machinery seemed the dull my senses even more, and it felt more relaxing than the eerie silence of my room. I occupied myself by cleaning the seemingly never-ending pile of dirty pots and dishes. I was far to awake to sleep now, but not enough to switch on anything electrical like the television, or the computer to send a report to William. I had to wait till tomorrow anyway, I'd already sent him one today and besides, what on Earth would I send? "Salutations William, I'm not doing my job. However, I am getting some ass, so it's okay." He'd drag me home himself.

Once I'd finished with the pots, I then moved on to cleaning the entire kitchen instead. It took me a few minutes to find the cloths and cleaners, but I did, and started from the back of the room, moving forward throughout. It didn't take me long to get halfway, but because of my quick pace, I was fully awake now but also exhausted. I sighed at the logic behind it all. My muscles were tense and tired, but I felt as if I could run for days. I stopped for a short break, putting my cleaning aids on the island table before reaching up to the over-head cupboards for a glass to fill. I was halfway through the act when I noticed the blurry shape of someone standing behind me, reflecting on the glass. I spun around defensively, but instantly relaxed when I saw who it was.

"Didn't think you'd be up so late?" I spoke softly. If I'd already woken him up - I could easily wake up others. "I'm sorry that I woke you."

"Ah, that's alright, I was gettin' sumfink anyway. Late night snacks are kinda my fing." 2D replied, just as quietly. It was obvious he'd been sneaking down for food much longer than I had.

"Ah," I replied, not really knowing what else to say, but my interjection was interrupted by 2D beginning to speak again.

"Why did Noods want to talk to you earlier?" He asked, he sounded extremely protective and my instincts were screaming at me to lie.

"Oh, just about the fight earlier..." I said as convincingly as possible. "She was giving me some tips."

2D smiled. "Yeah, she tends to do that."

I laughed, turning away before he could notice how fake it was. I reached over to open the fridge, then pulled out a cartoon of orange juice. I was cold, and soothing in my hand, so I held it for longer than I really should have before filling my glass.

"So..." I paused, unsure of what to say next. "Where'd you find a girl like her?" I asked. She really was unique from anyone I'd ever encountered before.

"She came in a box." 2D replied nonchalantly. I was stunned, I was still unsure of British humour, so I didn't really understand if it was supposed to be a joke or not. Awkwardly, I laughed as if it was; although I didn't really find it very funny. "What?" I heard after a few seconds.

"... Are you kidding me!" I said to him, how can he be serious? "What, so, she actually came in a box?" I finally replied, raising one eyebrow. He must have been going from the assumption that Americans were stupid - I'd heard that a lot while in Europe.

"Yea," He murmured instantly, he seemed to be a little distracted but then I noticed that he was playing with a frayed string from his t-shirt.

Nevertheless, I had no idea how to respond. Or rather, I didn't know where to begin. I made a note to question Noodle about this, but doubted she would say too much about it. She didn't really speak much, I'd never heard her say more than a few sentences at any one time. So, with this, (and with my glass empty) I left to go to my room and ponder about what I'd just learned.


	9. Email: O Green World

**Email: O Green World**

_Sent By Damien McGraw_

**From:** Damien McGraw  
**To:** William Miles  
**Date/Time:** 12/28/07 8:42 AM  
**Subject:** Regarding Fellow Assassins

William,

I discovered a valuable piece of information from another one of the assassins yesterday. I desperately need those background checks done, and I need them soon. It seems that one of them arrived 'in a box'. Based on body language - the man was not lying, but he is an assassin and the last thing any assassin wants, would be if they were caught lying. I have an idea on how to proceed, and will do so for the next few days. But rest assured, this will not discourage me from my mission at heart - I pursue the pieces more than ever before. I think that I may have a lead.

Please get the checks to me as soon as possible, but I will be conferring this information with the assassin in question... God help me.

I've already seen her abilities in combat and she is an opponent more than worthy of my time, but I've noticed that she's quick tempered, and choleric. I would mention how such emotions do not serve her well under the Order, but she may become angry and break some of the equipment in the house - or my arm. And at this point in the investigation, I can't afford to lose either.

Respond ASAP as I need those checks!

_**Damien.**_


	10. Sequence 5: Feel Good Inc

**Sequence V**

_Feel Good Inc._

28th December, 2007.

10:02 PM.

_"After a day of training and waiting for a reply from William, I finally went downstairs for some food. My stomach was growling and I was starved. I noticed Murdoc sitting in the front room on his own, and felt it a perfect opportunity to talk. I noticed that he was holding a bottle of rum in his hand, and I wasn't surprised in the slightest. But, maybe a drunk Murdoc would be more likely to talk than a sober one."_

"Hey Murdoc." I chirped as I loped into the front room and made myself comfortable by sitting cross-legged in front of the strangely ornamental old-time fireplace. He was sat in front of me at an angle, on the couch. The television in the corner of the room was on, but the volume was low and all I could see was a typical football match between the Atlanta Falcons and the New England Patriots. I had never really cared much for football, but would make an effort if it got me in further understanding of this box thing.

"Falcons are doing good, huh?" I asked him idly, only to be met with his stoney face staring me down.

"You a sodding idiot or what?!" Murdoc sat up on his chair and looked straight at me. I could smell his breath even from where I was sat, two metres away.

"Just maybe," I laughed, but his only response was a heavy sigh as he leaned back to his original position.

"Here." I turned to see a rum bottle flying towards me, it was only my fast reflexes in which I was able to catch it. "Well, go on. Drink it!" I heard Murdoc egging me on, and while I wasn't much of a drinker (at all), I would do as he asked in order to better pursue our friendship. I'd find out what 2D meant about the box if it killed me, and, as strange as it sounded, the last person I wanted to ask was Noodle. She'd probably just hit me again, or worse.

I held the rum bottle by the neck and gulped down a mouthful. It really was vile, and I almost chucked it back up, but I was able to get it down after a few seconds. Then I felt a hand slapping me on the back.

"Well done, mate. Welcome to the club!" I turned to see him grinning at me, and managed half a smile in response. I could still taste the rum.

"What the hell is in that stuff?!" I coughed at him.

"Oh, the usual, you know. Alcohol." I resisted lurging forward again and in result, had to lie down instead. I could feel myself getting light-headed already. I heard the sound of footsteps and looked over to find that Murdoc had stood up and was by the stereo. Please God, please no music. Not now.

Much to my despair, he chose Black Sabbath, then started to rock away while I shifted into a foetal position on the floor. After a few seconds I felt a hand grab my shoulder and pull me up, my mouth was shoved open and rum was poured inside. Apart from the annoyance of him touching me, I was actually pretty glad that Murdoc did it. It seemed like the best cure for headaches was more alcohol. Within the next ten minutes I was up and dancing with him, and I honestly think it was the most fun I'd ever had before.

I'd never been able to do any of this stuff with the Order before, and I wondered why not. Professionalism, maybe? Screw that! This was awesome!

"Man! Where'd you find that stuff?!" I shouted over the music.

"Oh, you know, tescos or some shit like that." I guessed his answer as I only heard a few words. "You like it?" He asked.

"Love it - this is the most fun I've ever had!" I roared, hardly able to contain my excitement.

"Yeah, well. Don't be gettin' any ideas." I heard him laugh after this, and I joined in. It was far too much fun now to be offended or the like. Why didn't I think of doing this sooner! Damn, what was wrong with me. I'd been so obsessed with my career for so long, and only after twenty-one years (that's my entire life, by the way) had I finally got something worth doing. A mission I could be proud of. I'd been so intent on not screwing up that I'd made myself into an asshole - what must the others think of me now?

I decided, from that point on, I wouldn't be such a downer anymore. It was irritating to have to be serious, and depressed me at times. I could be such good friends with these people - and they were good people - but I'd denied myself the chance. I grabbed the bottle from Murdoc, taking a few more swigs at it.

"Atta boy!" I heard him cry, but my mind was already on something else.

"Theres- There's something, that I have to- I think I- Yeah, I've gotta go do something..." I said to him, stumbling down the room. He called out after me, but I couldn't hear what and I didn't really care. I only had one thing on my mind and I was determined to make it understood.

The fucking box.

Like, who arrives in a damn box. Come on!

It them took me around ten minutes to get to the lift, and another ten to figure out how to work it, and when it reached the floor I wanted, I only ended up falling out and taking another five minutes to pick myself back up and charge down the corridor. But eventually, I made it. I barged through the door, throwing it shut behind me, then went for the bed. Noodle was actually sat on it at the time, and by the time I realised her foot was flying towards my face, it was too late to react. When I opened my eyes I saw her face shining above me.

"Get up." Was all she said. I did as she asked, clutching the back of my head where it must have hit the carpeted floor.

"What the hell!" I screeched, reaching out to the floor in front of me so I could attempt to stand. "Why you gotta- I just wanted to- Box! The box, tell me about the damn box!"

When I was able to stand, I looked over to her expecting to see her about to talk. But I saw nothing.

"Get the fuck out of my room." She spoke with a vemon in her voice which I'd never heard before. And I knew she didn't have to say it again, because I left at that. Only now starting to realise what I'd done.


End file.
